


Shambles

by yeaka



Category: Sneaky Pete (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Ficlet, M/M, PWP, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:40:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28351824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: The mess after Marius comes clean.
Relationships: Taylor Bowman/Marius Josipovic
Kudos: 4





	Shambles

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Sneaky Pete or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Maybe it’s better this way. The truth still stings, but at least when Taylor surges down into the man beneath him, it’s not his cousin he’s kissing. Marius actually has the nerve to turn away, like _he’s_ the one that needs air, not the one who conned them all from day one for no good reason. He tried to explain it. He looked at Taylor with tears in his big brown eyes, and Taylor couldn’t even tell if they were real. But worse than that, all he could really think was _thank God he wasn’t crushing on family._

He crushes Marius Josipovic into the mattress and grabs him by the chin, wrenching him back, pulling him down and open so Taylor can go in with tongue—he doesn’t do anything in half measures, especially not _sex_. Besides, he’s been thinking of kissing Marius for weeks. Or rather, trying not to. But that’s because he thought Marius was _Pete_. It was the most confusing time of his life, and he blames Marius more for that than the lies. It’s hard to think of the man under him as _Marius_ , even in his head. Marius moans around his tongue before kissing back with equal fervour, maybe more. Taylor used to feel insecure over how needy he was—how much he _craved_ being _loved_. But the more they do this, the more he thinks Marius is the desperate one. Must be. He couldn’t possibly have a real family of his own. Couldn’t have anyone he actually loves. He said he did, but then he shuddered and grabbed Taylor’s shirt when Taylor shoved him into a wall—and not pushing him back. Pulling him _in_. He wouldn’t do that unless he felt the same sparks. 

_Or it’s another con._ A shiver snakes down Taylor’s spine, and he stops mid-thrust, even though he’s already balls-deep inside Marius’ channel and has never been harder. He didn’t even know it could be this hot. Sleeping with women was always fine. Better than fine. He surprised himself with how eager he was to get at Marius’ ass once the whole ‘cousin’ thing fell away. Then Marius snorted and held him at bay, teased him about not knowing how to do it right, which was fine, because watching Marius lube up and finger himself open just turned Taylor on more. 

Marius pants, “What?” under him. Like there aren’t a dozen reasons Taylor could and should be stopping. Then Marius moves, _wriggles_ , just adjusting himself on the battered mattress but clenching down around Taylor’s cock, and Taylor actually gets dizzy with how _good_ it feels. Marius is so much _tighter_ than the women he’s had. Not as wet, but the lubrication’s enough. The condom’s not dulling anything. Marius blinks and mutters, “If this is about the family—”

“Shut up.” The last thing Taylor needs is to _think about the family_. To hear _Marius_ talk about them. He still can’t figure out why Marius stuck around through all their chaos, if not just to get at his dick. It’s not like they ever had much money. 

Marius nods and licks his bottom lip like he knows and he’s sorry. “They don’t have to know.”

Of course they don’t have to know. They’re not even going to hear about the first part—Marius coming over and confessing and it devolving into shouting into pushing into making out in the hall. Taylor’s just glad Marius came to him first. He doesn’t need to go to the others. It’ll just upset them. The real Pete doesn’t sound much better. But either way, they’re certainly not going to hear about the one time Taylor goes gay for his own not-cousin. 

Carly would probably correct him to ‘bisexual’ and then roll her eyes. But even that feels weird. For a while he thought Marius was asexual. He seemed so secluded. Maybe Taylor was just picking up on the con thing. 

Marius seems to appreciate Taylor’s body well enough, because his eyes stray down Taylor’s naked chest while he waits for Taylor to get over the mental block. Their shirts have both come off, Marius’ pants ripped and on the floor, Taylor’s down to his knees. Marius doesn’t look half bad naked. He always looks troubled, mysterious, kind of cute. Taylor likes to think he looks hot. He works out. But so do all the guys in prison, so maybe Marius is used to big muscles. 

Marius draws his legs up Taylor’s sides and squeezes, hands lifting from the sheets to Taylor’s broad shoulders. Taylor resists for half a second before he inevitably gives in, letting Marius draw him back for a languid kiss. He had a thought. Another question More things they should talk about. But it tumbles out of his head as Marius’ fingers run up through his hair, and his hips move on their own. They slam down into Marius, driving as far into that delicious heat as he can go, and Marius groans gratefully and lifts up to meet up. At least the changing tides soothes some of his guilt—it’s not so much him pounding mercilessly into Marius anymore. Just two grown men fucking. 

Taylor tries not to think again. It’s too late for that. If he wanted to be smart, he wouldn’t have taken Marius to his bedroom in the first place. The more he surrenders to just that giddy feeling, the more Marius takes the reins, which is easier, better—Marius probably knows what he’s doing. He probably sleeps with men all the time. He never seems interested in the slighted bit of affection, but he must spread his legs for anyone and everyone when the con calls for it. It’d be too much for Taylor to think he’s just _special_. That Marius really doesn’t think about these things, but Taylor got under his skin.

Taylor even lets Marius roll them over. He stays down in the wrinkled sheets while Marius straddles him and starts riding him _hard_ , eyes closed and mouth wide. He moans like he hasn’t had a good fuck in _ages_. He leans down to run his hands across Taylor’s chiseled stomach, then opens his eyes just a fraction and has the nerve to mumble, “ _Sorry_.”

Taylor winces. He grabs Pete’s hips— _Marius’ hips_ —and just like that, he’s mad again. He rolls them back over and slams into Marius’ ass with every ounce of anger in him, and he nudges Marius’ head aside so he can bite into Marius’ neck. It’s not a little nip and doesn’t come with any kisses. He’s just _mad_. So he marks Marius up to match the emotional bruise he got the second Marius started talking. 

The revenge doesn’t work—Marius just moans, “ _Harder._ ” He arches into Taylor and runs his hands down Taylor’s back, blunt nails digging in, like that’s even better—like he _wants_ a big burly man that can break him in half. Taylor’s too into that idea. His brain says to _punish ‘Pete’_ by going slow and soft instead, but Taylor doesn’t have half Marius’ control, and instead he just fucks Marius like an animal. He goes rougher than he ever has, not holding a single thing back. He doesn’t have to this time. He doesn’t have to worry about being too heavy or strong or _hurting_ anybody, because Marius cries louder with every mark Taylor gives him. Every one takes him closer. 

And then he’s at the very edge and realizes he’s groaning, “ _Pete_ ,” even though he _knows_ and never wanted the Pete he knew before. Just wants this man now.

Marius nips the shell of his ear and rasps, “ _Marius._ ” The wound’s too fresh. That’s the thing that pushes Taylor over—that makes him clamp down and explode inside Marius’ body. He screams into Marius’ shoulder and grabs Marius so hard that his skin will be red in the morning. 

Somewhere in the midst of the dizzying orgasm, Taylor wonders if Marius will even still be around in the morning. Maybe now that the jig is up, he’ll ride off into the sunset, and the real Pete will come riding back, and Taylor will never be able to look him in the eye. 

He’s so out of it he barely registers Marius’ hand moving between them. It hits him belatedly that he’s been a shit lover—he didn’t even touch Marius’ dick. He tells himself it’s just because it’s his first time with another dick involved. He’ll do better next time. And then he has to scold himself, because there shouldn’t be a _next time_.

Marius gives him a light shove, and Taylor begrudgingly rolls over. His flagging cock drags out of Marius hole, condom still clinging on and keeping in the mess. Taylor has just enough wherewithal to roll it off and fling it at the garbage can in the corner. It only then occurs to him then that it’s odd Marius had a condom at all. And one of those little travel lube bottles. It’s not like he said anything seductive to Taylor. The confession was more heartfelt than anything. Taylor’s the one that snapped like a rabid dog.

Taylor’s even more confused than when he started. He’s staring up at the beige ceiling like it’ll give him answers, and he can see Marius watching him in his peripherals, but he doesn’t know what to say. It feels like Marius is nervous. But it always does. 

Finally, Marius mumbles, “So...?”

“So?” Taylor lobs the ball back into his court, head lolling aside, _staring_ at Marius. “What now?”

Marius’ brows lift like he honestly doesn’t know. He’s such a mess that it’s almost possible to believe he hasn’t been planning everything ten moves in advance. It takes him a long time to carefully answer, “What do _you_ want now?”

Taylor just glares. Marius lifts his hands and mutters, “Alright, alright. _I_ want to stay the night and have breakfast or whatever, and then we can figure out what to tell the family—if anything—tomorrow.” Taylor doesn’t let up until Marius tries, “Then we could... see how it goes, or...?”

Taylor closes his eyes. He realizes that’s the straightest answer he’s probably going to get. Marius isn’t just going to admit it all means nothing to him and he’ll be gone as soon as Taylor turns around.

Then again, maybe he won’t be. He did keep coming back to their family, no matter how many times they practically burned their own house down. 

In a way, it’s not any less messy than Taylor’s last few prospects. At least Marius isn’t married and hasn’t slept with his grandpa. As far as he knows. He thinks about asking, then almost laughs. 

Marius asks, “Mind if I have a shower?”

Taylor nods numbly. “Yeah.” 

He watches Marius climb off his bed and scuttle off butt-naked, and he thinks of hiding Marius’ clothes just to make sure he _can’t_ go anywhere until they work things out. But that’s something the old Taylor would do—the immature bully that used to pick on Pete. 

Mature newly-instated cop Taylor faces his demons and goes to join Marius in the shower.


End file.
